Aweel, they trailed up Morris to their bar, as they ca’t, to see what he could say to the job; but the folk that were again him, gae him sic an awfu’ throughgaun about his rinnin’ awa, and about a’ the ill he had ever dune or said for a’ the forepart o’ his life, that Patie says, he looked mair like ane dead than living; and they cou’dna get a word o’ sense out o’ him, for downright fright at their gowling and routing.—He maun be a saft sap, wi’ a head nae better than a fozy frosted turnip—it wad hae ta’en a hantle o’ them to scaur Andrew Fairservice out o’ his tale.”
“And how did it all end, Andrew? did your friend happen to learn?”
“Ou, ay; for as his walk’s in this country, Pate put aff his journey for the space of a week or thereby, because it wad be acceptable to his customers to bring down the news. It just a’ gaed aff like moonshine in water. The fallow that began it drew in his horns and said, that though he believed the man had been rubbit, yet he acknowledged he might hae been mista’en about the particulars. And then the other chield got up, and said, he cared na whether Morris was rubbit or no, provided it wasna to become a stain on ony gentleman’s honour and reputation, especially in the north of England; for, said he before them, I come frae the north mysell, and I carena a boddle wha kens it. And this is what they ca’ explaining—the tane gies up a bit, and the tither gies up a bit, and a’ friends again. Aweel, after the Commons’ Parliament had tuggit, and rived, and ruggit at Morris and his rubbery till they were tired o’t, the Lords’ Parliament they behoved to hae their spell o’t. In puir auld Scotland’s Parliament they a’ sate thegither, cheek by choul, and than they didna need to hae the same blethers twice ower again. But till’t their lordships went wi’ as muckle teeth and gude-will, as if the matter had been a’ speck and span new. Forbye, there was something said about ane Campbell, that suld hae been concerned in the rubbery, mair or less, and that he suld hae had a warrant frae the Duke of Argyle, as a testimonial o’ his character. And this put MacCallum More’s beard in a bleize, as gude reason there was; and he gat up wi’ an unco bang, and garr’d them a’ look about them, and wad ram it even doun their throats, there was never ane o’ the Campbells but was as wight, wise, warlike, and worthy trust, as auld Sir John the Græme. Now, if your honour’s sure ye arena a drap’s bluid akin to a Campbell, as I am nane mysell, sae far as I can count my kin, or hae had it counted to me, I’ll gie ye my mind on that matter.”
“You may be assured I have no connection whatever with any gentleman of the name.”
“Ou, than we may speak it quietly amang oursells. There’s baith gude and bad o’ the Campbells, like other names. But this MacCallum More has an unco sway and say baith, amang the grit folk at Lunnun even now; for he canna preceesely be said to belang to ony o’ the twa sides o’ them, sae deil ane o’ them likes to quarrel wi’ him; sae they e’en voted Morris’s tale a fause calumnious libel, as they ca’t, and if he hadna gien them leg-bail, he was likely to hae ta’en the air on the pillory for leasing-making.”
So speaking, honest Andrew collected his dibbles, spades, and hoes, and threw them into a wheelbarrow,—leisurely, however, and allowing me full time to put any farther questions which might occur to me before he trundled them off to the tool-house, there to repose during the ensuing day. I thought it best to speak out at once, lest this meddling fellow should suppose there were more weighty reasons for my silence than actually existed.
“I should like to see this countryman of yours, Andrew; and to hear his news from himself directly. You have probably heard that I had some trouble from the impertinent folly of this man Morris” (Andrew grinned a most significant grin), “and I should wish to see your cousin the merchant, to ask him the particulars of what he heard in London, if it could be done without much trouble.”
“Naething mair easy,” Andrew observed; “he had but to hint to his cousin that I wanted a pair or twa o’ hose, and he wad be wi’ me as fast as he could lay leg to the grund.”
“Oh yes, assure him I shall be a customer; and as the night is, as you say, settled and fair, I shall walk in the garden until he comes; the moon will soon rise over the fells. You may bring him to the little back- gate; and I shall have pleasure, in the meanwhile, in looking on the bushes and evergreens by the bright frosty moonlight.”